


It's Not Brave If You're Not Scared

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Gen, Introspection, POV Second Person, The Sorting Hat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 12:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: You’re scared, aren’t you Neville?You’ve always been, when you heard those whispers, when you caught the word ‘Squib’, and you felt all your fears come true.





	It's Not Brave If You're Not Scared

_It’s not brave if you’re not scared._

Grandma told you, do you remember Neville?

You remember her severe look when she did, her sigh.

She had closed her eyes, and you’re sure she was thinking back to the day she had brought your dad to Diagon Alley, to buy him all that he needed for Hogwarts.

She didn’t think she was going to do it again, you know.

She thought that, if she was to have any grandchild, her son and daughter-in-law would’ve brought him to Flourish and Blotts, to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

And it had fallen on her, too old and too tired.

_It’s not brave if you’re not scared._

You’re scared, aren’t you Neville?

You’ve always been, when you heard those whispers, when you caught the word ‘Squib’, and you felt all your fears come true.

You’ve seen for years your parents holed up in that hospital for being too brave, for the choices they had made, for the honour they had kept alive, whilst they were half-alive.

Now that honour weighs on you shoulder, and you know.

In the pocket of your uniform, already a mess, Frank Longbottom’s wand weighs terribly, as a constant reminder of what’s expected of you.

You know you’re gonna have to do your best and not let them down, and you despise this sense of responsibility.

From time to time, you ask yourself what’s the point.

They’ll never know. They’ll keep staring in front of them, lost into the devastation of their minds, violated and massacred.

_It’s not brave if you’re not scared._

And you burst of fear, Neville.

Thoughts are running at the maximum speed while professor McGonagall is calling you, one by one, while kids happier than you reach the table of their House, while you look at that old hat deciding your fate, knowing that it won’t be long before it’s your turn.

You feel the fear, Neville. But you still can’t find that place where your courage is hiding, the one you’ve always been sure you don’t have.

Having the same blood often means nothing.

And you check out the farthest table from the Gryffindor’s, the smirks of the Slytherins watching you as you were dead meat.

“Longbottom, Neville.” you hear the professor calling you, and you get on that stool, as if you were a condemned kid.

You sit, shivering as a child in front of his ghosts, and welcome reluctant the worn out hat on your head.

When it starts talking, in a whisper only you can hear, you jump.

“Longbottom... I remember your father, yes...” he talks, and you grit your teeth, your eyes closed, hoping it’ll soon be over.

_It’s not brave if you’re not scared._

You’re scared. A fear you’ve never shown to your grandmother out of shame, because you didn’t want to disappoint her, for that discomfort that you carried with your every step.

“Well, I think it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to send you to...”

You hold your breath, you can’t take this.

“ _Gryffindor!”_

You smile.

You smile for real, for the first time since you’ve walked into the castle, you smile because for once you can feel a living bond between you and your parents.

You run toward the table of _your_ House, toward _your_ housemates.

_It’s not brave if you’re not scared._

You’re still afraid, Neville, and you know it too.

But, looking around, you know you’re too young to find the courage hiding behind your childish fears.

Fear is a part of you, Neville.

But you sit at this table, as Frank and Alice Longbottom had done years before.

Blood is not all.

But in your veins, mixed to the blood of your parents, there’s also all they had to give to you, all that have brought them to a point of no return.

The will to emerge has never been stronger in you, now that you know you’re a tad like them.

Show it to the world, Neville, show it to them, show it to your grandma.

But, before all, show to yourself that you can control that fear, that you can become someone worth of calling a man.

You smile, shy.

It’s the first step of a long road, that you are ready to take.

Neville. Worthy son of Frank and Alice Longbottom.


End file.
